You Said
by Threewaysin-03
Summary: [KxOC] Knives wakes up to a painful body and an annoying woman at the end of his bed that won't take no for an answer. No plot yet. Read, review, and enjoy if you so choose.
1. Chapter 1

a/u: It's been a while since I've uploaded anything. And seeing as my other stories no longer exist, this would be my first one up..as of now. Anyway, just wanted to mention that I have a slight idea where I'm headed with this, but other than that, I've got nothing. Without further ado, enjoy my shameful, plot-less story.

Oh yeah. My disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Trigun or any of its characters. I do, however own this story as well as the original character that is sprinkled throughout it.

::Look Me in the Eye, and Tell Me You'll Die for Me::

The day was growing shorter as the tall man sat perfectly still in bed and in the same position he had been since that morning. It was an irritating image to walk in on for anyone who put forth any effort and time tending to _his _needs.

The small square room seemed to be getting smaller as the sunsets cast yellow and orange shadows in the corners and crannies, the dresser by the bed, the hooks on the door where a thin, flimsy, and tattered cloth hanged limp and lifeless.

And on the two individuals that sat across from each other in competitive silence.

There was a tension in the room that could cut through flesh and bone; chilling and repugnant.

Knives' eye twitched with distaste as he stared murderously at the girl in front of him. He'd been in battle with her since the first day he had opened his eyes, only to find himself in a small wretched room filled with humans. Humans that had befriended his brother. _'Vash, you imbecile.'_

He would never forgive his brother for placing him in the same hemisphere, let alone the same house as a bunch of worthless women.

_That day_, he had looked up to see Vash, smiling down at him with his happy-go-lucky face, as if he'd done nothing at all. As if he didn't just _shoot_ his own brother into a coma.

"You're awake, finally! It's been nearly two weeks, I thought I'd have to do some soul searching or something to see if you were still with us." Vash proclaimed loud and proud. The door had swung open just then revealing a very small girl accompanied by a rather large, no, taller girl. Both were carrying a stack of freshly dried sheets and linens.

"Ah, I see he's finally up." The smaller girl spoke, looking first, at the man in the bed and then at Vash. Placing her share of the folded sheets in the taller girl's stack and smiling slightly, she spoke again, "Since you're up, Milly and I will" she hesitated, "--will go into town and grab some medicine along with the grocery. Alright? Alright. Let's go Milly." She quickly left the room. Vash stared, watching the figure leave, in confusion and concern.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Knives." Milly spoke quietly and calm with a bright smile. She opened her mouth to say something else when she heard her name being called through the hallway. Jumping in her skin, she turned, "Coming Meryl!" and with that she fled the room to catch up with her co-worker.

Knives was disgusted at the sight he had seen. Not only were they humans, his brother was hanging out with, but they were women. Worthless, pathetic women who were no use to him. "What are you, some pimp? I didn't know." He spoke in a low, cracked voice. Vash snapped his head to his brother, appalled at the accusation he'd made. Sure Vash was known to be a lech and a womanizer, but he'd never, in his right mind, do anything to harm anyone, especially a young lady.

He chuckled deep in his throat; soft and soothing. Looking down at Knives, he answered his brother's question, "Meryl and Milly. They're my friends. You should be thankful. They're the ones that are providing a place for you" he paused, rephrasing his words, "for us, to stay." Vashes eyes darkened with warning as well as concern, "Please keep things civil. I don't want to lose you _again_." Knives studied his brother's face.

His jaw was set.

His eyes were full of sadness.

His brother was serious.

Knives closed his eyes, blocking the pain and ache that played across Vash's face.

"Leave me." The words were harsh, but Vash knew it was only temporary. Knives would need time to cool. After what he had gone through, he couldn't blame his brother to be angered and vile at everything and everyone.

Standing up straight, he began heading toward the door, "Alright! But be nice. Unlike Meryl and Milly, _she_ doesn't give in that easily to mercy. Check on you later, bro!" With the door shut behind him, Vash smiled wickedly.

Inside the room, Knives stared at the door, wondering what his baboon of a brother had meant by his last remark. "What the hell is that fool talking about?" He groaned as he dropped his head back on his uncomfortable pillow.

A voice sprouted from the corner of the room, "I believe that fool is talking about me."

Knives turned his head to see where the noise was coming from. No wonder he hadn't seen her. She was sitting right beside the dresser in the corner of the room, the only visible part being her legs that crossed at the ankles and her hands that held a magazine. "Do you make it a habit of hiding behind shitty pieces of furniture." He stated rather than asked. The mysterious girl flipped the page once. And again. And then again before she replied to his remark, "Why, do you want to _see_ me? I'm a human, you know. _And_ I have breasts. Two of the most dreadful things in your life, yes?"

The girl was a pissant and a bitch.

"By all means, stay in your corner. In fact, why don't you just leave like everyone else." Knives spat out, as he turned his head toward the ceiling.

"I'd love to leave you in your own abysmal crap hole of a miserable life, but unfortunately, I'm on duty. Something about, I don't know, taking care of a _baby._" Closing the magazine, she got up from her seat and walked out into the room. When she reached the side of the bed, she looked down at Knives with eyes that were just as cold and empty as his own. Her face was heart-shaped, hair pinned loosely to the back of her head, her neck long and her body small and lean. Knives gritted his teeth as he looked up at the girl who dared to defy him with insults.

"The other girls haven't come back yet with the medicine so I'd suggest you shut the hell up, else you want to cause more pain to your pathetic body." The girl interrupted his death glare as well as his biting tongue that was about to strike.

"Why would I need to wait for some stupid pair of bitches with human medicine." Knives was more the well pissed, but showing it would only cause weakness to his appearance. Of course, this particular girl seemed to be oblivious to anything he was saying at all.

The girl leaned closer to him, her face mere inches from his own. She stared straight in his face, her eyes meeting with his. She moved her hand slowly down the side of his body to his left thigh, caressing it lightly before giving it one giant painfully excruciating squeeze. Knives' eyes burned with fire at the sensation, "Ahhh, shit woman!" Knives arched his back slightly before staring up at the girl that just crossed the borderline of being dead into nonexistent.

"_That_, my dear _Pea Blossom_, is why the other girls are getting medicine. Because your body is still healing from the bullet wounds you got all up in your business." She straightened and walked to the other side of the bed where a chair was placed for bedside surveillance convenience. Sitting down, she crossed her legs and opened up her magazine.

Since then, she had done nothing but sit in the chair, only occasionally uncrossing and re-crossing her legs and moving the chair from one side of the bed to the other until she finally decided to set herself at the end of the bed. Right in front of Knives.

Now he sat up straight, staring at the girl that seemed to infest his room with her presence day after day. It had been about another two weeks and a half and his body had healed perfectly, but Knives was never really one to back down on slave labor, in any shape or form it took. He had to admit, he took humor to the way the girl managed to always do every beck and call he'd commanded of her—even if she didn't do it quietly.

She was, what Vash liked to call, his_ nurse_, though neither Knives nor the girl approved of that title.

Knives didn't need one.

She didn't want to be one.

And yet here she was. At the end of his bed, staring right at him with the same look she'd had since that morning. And Knives hated it. He hated having her there. He hated being here. If he had the option, he would have killed here eons before she'd ever touch him. But something told him that if he tried—she wouldn't have gone down without a fight.

But it was Vash's words that stopped him from creating any blood shed. Vash wanted civility. Knives would at least offer that much of himself to his foolish brother.

The girl had finally decided to move, leaning back against the bed frame with her arms stretched out to her sides. She came out of her original position, stretching her legs out in front of her, disregarding the body that sat there. She knew Knives hated her being there in such close proximity. She knew he had little tolerance for the human kind.

She knew his _boundary_. But she walked all over it, like it was a Sunday morning walk through the park. She wasn't scared of him.

And _that_ was the most terrifying thing for Knives. His authority was dull when she was around. Still, he had never once given her an edge for salvation. Whatever she said, he responded with malice and sarcasm. Unfortunately it had gone both ways, he soon realized.

Knives watched as the girl adjusted herself; as she made herself more comfortable. He didn't understand why she didn't flinch under his vicious tone; why she didn't blink back even a single tear when he threw the most horrific insults he could throw at her. No, Knives wouldn't be beaten so easily.

Staring straight at her with only the slightest bit of amusement, he broke the silence, "Isn't it your bedtime, woman?"

The girl had just finished moving when she lifted her chin and stared at him, "Isn't it _yours_? Remember? Seven o' clock sharp. That's what your brother and Milly said." She gave a little smirk, "It's three minutes past your bedtime, _sugarplum_."

Knives made a mental note to rip out her tongue and shove it down her throat the next time he had the chance. She had made it, in what pathetic mind she had, that she could call him everything that was cute, sweet and sugar-filled. He could kill every person on Gunsmoke if each held a nickname that that girl had given him.

Knives stayed in his position, his arms crossed in front of his chest, "Leave." He spoke the words slowly and maliciously. It had worked the hundred times that Meryl had come in to tend to his needs. It worked when Milly came skipping through the room with trays of food. It had even worked on his dear brother, who would only frown in disappointment before exiting the room. But this girl didn't budge. Instead, she leisurely made herself more comfortable.

"Duty calls, honey buns." She spoke with a yawn.

"You know I could kill you." Knives spat as he glared for yet another nickname.

"Yes you could. Amazing." The girl recovered from her yawn, staring blankly at the man in front of her. Knives' lips pursed as he studied her facial expressions, which, there were scarcely any at all.

The room was no longer casting the same shadows. Outside the only window, the moons of Gunsmoke radiated peacefully, glowing in the darkness that enveloped it. Dark blues and blacks skimmed over the contents of the room where Knives remained, on his bed, along with the stubborn girl. He needed her to leave. He wanted her gone. Away from the room. Away from him. In honesty, he really was tired. He wanted to rest without having someone, especially her, watching over him. Yet he knew why she stayed.

_She was ordered to._

His brother had ordered her to stay with him. To watch him and make sure he didn't get out of bed and leave during the middle of the night and wreak havoc of the world. Knives mentally cursed at his brother. _'Damn you, Vash. You're such a fool.'_

Knives examined the girl across from him. He noticed her face twitch. So, she was just as tired as he was. He wondered what would happen if he were to keep her up all night doing nothing but stare at each other, but thought otherwise for he was sure neither of them, if they really _didn't_ try, would make it.

Knives was about the open his mouth to say something when his bedroom door opened. Vash walked in the room with nothing but a pair of sweats and a towel wrapped loosely around his neck. He was carrying a stack of clothes in one hand while his other, well his other one was detached from his arm completely. Both Knives and the girl looked in his direction. Vash took in the sight before him.

Knives was obviously being stubborn for he'd been in the same position since the last time he came in to visit his brother. And the girl. Well, she'd been at the end of his bed, resting leisurely as if there wasn't a care in the world.

Vash had to admit, it was a funny image. Shaking the thoughts away, he cleared his throat, "Hey you two. Knives, I brought some clothes for you. I don't know if you'll like them, but whether you like them or not doesn't really matter." Vash stopped laughing when neither of the two on the bed found it as humorous as he did.

"Anyway, I'll take it from here. You can go." Vash smiled sweetly at the girl and watched as relief fell on her lips in a half smile; her face relaxed and her eyes soft. The girl got up and quietly left the room, closing the door and leaving the two brothers to be alone.

Both Knives and Vash watched as she exited the door. Vash had met her a while back out of the blue. He didn't really know what her story was, but he knew it bugged her everyday. They had become close friends in the short time that they'd known each other, and he was thankful for her presence.

Sighing, Vash turned to look at his brother. He walked over to the chair by the bed and took a seat.

"Are you two fighting?" Vash playfully joked, hoping to get a response out of his brother.

Knives sent daggers at Vash as he jerked his head and glared at him. Vash's smile disappeared.

"I _hate_ that woman." Knives said angrily. "She does nothing but wastes my time." With that, Knives slowly shifted his body and weight, as he spread himself across the bed, grabbing the blankets, at the end of the bed, that the girl had taken in order to add padding to her back. Vash watched as Knives lay down, covering himself with the blankets and finally submitting to sleep. Vash smiled inwardly.

"She's not as bad as you think." Vash stated as he got up, placed the stack of clothes on the chair, and walked out of the room.

Finally, the room was silent. Knives was relieved. In his mind, he knew he could leave. He could sneak out of the house and just leave if he so wished. But something, or _someone_, made him think otherwise.

Knives was defeated.

His brother had defeated him.

And he knew he wasn't ready to enter the battle ring. Not just yet. He would need more time to prepare. In the meantime, all he could do was stay.

Stay with Vash.

Knives grumbled as he dozed off into a slumber.

"Yes. She _is._"

a/u: I know. It's a crappy way to begin a story. Sorry.


	2. Chapter 2

a/n: Alright, second chapter. Since the last chapter, Knives has basically woken up to his brother and three other girls—including one that won't seem to leave him alone. There's a bit of awkward tension between Meryl and Knives as well as Vash and Meryl if you didn't catch that. And then there was the girl. The one that seems to be plastered to Knives' bedside. Let's see what happens the next morning, shall we? And enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun or the characters from the series. However, the story and original character do belong to me. And that's it.

::Hiding Behind Your Red Velvet Curtain::

Last night was an interesting one, and Vash couldn't help but laugh at it. He'd known Knives to be stubborn, but he didn't think he'd succumb to such childish behavior. And in Knives' case—it was pretty childish of him.

Vash finished his breakfast that Meryl and Milly had prepared for him that morning. He got up out of his seat, scratched his head and took one last gulp of his coffee before placing it in the sink.

The two insurance girls had already left for work when he woke up to find his food nicely placed at the breakfast table in the kitchen. He was a lucky one, that was for sure. He would have never thought that Meryl and Milly would come to his help after all he had put them through..

"Vash, you're so used to always looking out for others, but you never do the same for yourself. Please, Vash.

" _Let us help you._

" _Let _me_ help you._"

Those were the kind of words Meryl had spoken to him. He'd have to thank the two someday, somehow. In the meantime, he'd do his share of the work.

Vash headed toward the small living room where he had left his newly bought coat. Looking down he stared at it. He missed his red one. The one he had known to love just as much as his brother. Vash grinned at that notion, but his face slowly faded in sadness as he thought about it more. _His coat_. It was so much a part of him he almost regretted leaving it behind after his last confrontation with his brother. But he wanted to start over. To start from scratch. To begin a new life with his friends—and his brother. He knew he couldn't change Knives. Like he had said so long ago—people didn't change their ways so easily. And he knew Knives couldn't change. He _wouldn't_.

But there was a part of Vash that hoped something, maybe even a _miracle_, could make Knives see the lives surrounding him in something other than death; to step out from behind the red curtains.

Vash had reached for his coat when he heard a loud crash coming from Knives' room. Chuckling, he headed out the door. His brother was slowly losing it. And Vash enjoyed it very much. Having _Sil_ around was definitely coming in handy. With that girl, he knew Knives would be okay. It was about time someone stood up to Knives. A little ego bashing was just what he needed.

It was barely nine o' clock in the morning. Knives, with all the sleep he lacked, got up off his bed. It was almost refreshing to be able to do so without _someone_ shadowing his every move. He slowly stretched out his arms, working out the kinks in his back and legs. He was dressed in the same black cotton sweats he'd been wearing the past two days, and a light pink t-shirt that, from what Vash explained, had been the cause of Milly misplacing a red sock in the loads of white clothes. A small price to pay, but worth it since his latter choice would have been not only pink, but also bunny printed as well.

Knives was still a little tired, but he couldn't get to sleep. There was too much going on in his head; as if there was some sort of static that was interfering. He couldn't quite pinpoint it, but whatever it was, he didn't like it.

Recovering from his stretching, he put his arms down, only to hit and knock down a tray of food that had been placed on a little table beside his bed. Knives growled in annoyance as he watched the plate of food hit the ground.

"Guess you're not having breakfast then?"

Knives looked back up, turning his head to face the girl that was sitting in the corner beside the dresser drawer; a newspaper in front of her. _Damn that girl for always pissing him off_. Glaring at her, he spoke, "Leave, woman." The girl looked up from her paper. She faced Knives and gave a bright warm smile.

"What's the matter, Honey Dove? You need some time alone," her smile faded as she glared right back at him, "to _apologize_ to your goddamn food? That stuff doesn't come cheap, you know." The girl got up and headed toward Knives. Standing in front of him, he was a good foot and a half—she barely reached his shoulders.

Knives crossed his arms over his chest as he stared down at her. Her eyes were dull; dark circles ran under them; her hair slightly frazzled and misplaced. She looked like she hadn't had anymore sleep than he did. She must have come back in the room later that night just to keep watch over him. Again.

God, she annoyed him.

'You're an idiot to stay with my brother; to listen to him. He hasn't learned yet. He knows nothing.' Knives spoke inwardly. Just then the girl's intensity grew as her eyes turned to ice but quickly slipped back into a calm shade of green.

Knives' head stung. Bad. Really, really bad.

The ache was familiar. Almost like…static.

He said nothing as his head throbbed. He eyed her, not really wanting to deal with whatever she had to say, before he disregarded the fallen food and finally stepped past her, heading for the door. As he reached for the knob, the girl grabbed his arm. Knives' senses took over him as he snapped his head to her, burning with anger as he felt her touch him. Twisting his arm out of her own, he reached for her neck, slamming her into the door. The girl winced at the sudden shock of his force.

"Don't ever," Anger poured out of his mouth and through gritted teeth, "Don't ever touch me again, woman."

Knives watched her as she lifted her chin in defiance.

"Sil." The girl spoke sternly.

"What?" Knives spat out.

"My name. Is Sil."

"Do you think he's too much for her to handle?" Milly asked Meryl. The tall girl had been digging through dirt like a high-powered drill all morning and was asked to take a break from the other employees. An hour and a half ago. Milly had returned, but the other workers had insisted on her taking a longer break.

"No, no! We insist! You work so hard, you deserve a longer break!" All the workers agreed; little shouts of 'yeah!' and 'go on!' going off in the background.

So she decided to pay a little visit to her dear friend Meryl just a block away.

Milly dipped her spoon in her pudding, taking it into her mouth and savoring the sweet taste of it. "I mean, he's like a big bully." She said through a mouth full of pudding. "Did you hear all those things he called her? Gosh! I can only imagine how Sil might feel."

Meryl, who had been roaming back and forth from table to table in the little café of which she worked at, had taken a quick break to speak to her, "Please, that girl has a whiplash that'll rip even his pants. I'm sure Sil will be just fine." Milly frowned as her friend left to tend to another customer.

"Well, I hope so."

Sil stormed out of the room once Knives had removed his hand from her neck and had left her there to stand in her own anger. She was not going to let him get away so easily.

That man had no respect for anyone, and she would be damned if she ever let him get away with his actions. Of course, she wasn't one to talk, seeing as she was just as rude. But there was a difference. She was only rude to him. No matter how hard she tried to shake the feeling off, she just couldn't understand why she, for lack of a better word, hated him. Vash had told her the story of his brother and what he had done, but it was the kind of thing Sil could understand. Under a certain kind of circumstance, that is. She knew about all the horrible things Knives had done, but even with that..

She understood.

"People do stupid things when they're loved ones are in danger."

Her mother's words ran through her head as she thought about what Knives had done to Vash. It was because he cared for him, that he did those stupid things.

But why? Why did she still hate him? Why was it that whenever she was around him, she wanted to rip him apart? She'd forgiven him for what he'd done to his brother.

So what did she have to hate him for now?

Once she had passed through the hallway she headed for the kitchen where she heard Knives looking through cabinets and drawers. She found him leaning forward looking in the sink cabinet. Sil's eyes turned to slits as she came up behind Knives, reached for him and with all her force, she twirled him around to face her. Knives was stunned, amused, and pissed all at the same time.

"What do you think you're doing?" Sil yelled at him. "Planning on making breakfast? Well guess what? You can't. You already have one. And it's on the floor in your room ready to be eaten." Taking the frying pan that Knives had in his hand, she threw it back into the cabinet and slammed it shut. Knives couldn't believe this girl.

_'I can't believe this girl.'_

Crossing his arms, Knives opened his mouth to talk, only to have Sil interject, "No. No, you don't get to say anything. You either clean your mess up, eat the food you were given, or starve until lunch." She paused briefly, "That is if you even get any. I'm in charge of you. So you have to do what I say. And if you don't, then…" she stuttered again, not really knowing where she was going with this, "then you don't get any lunch! Or dinner!" And with that she slapped him in the face before stalking away.

"And that," she turned around, "was for putting your hands on me."

Knives listened to the door to her room slam shut. What the hell was the girl's problem? He couldn't, for the life of him, figure her out. Not that he really wanted to. But it was the first time he'd seen her other than calm and collected. It almost looked as if she was…irritated. He smirked, but it soon faded as pain shot through his cheek. Rubbing it, a small sigh escaped his mouth as he left the kitchen and went into his own room.

She had flopped into her bed once she'd entered her room listening as Knives' door shut.

The feeling of soft blankets and pillows was wonderful since she'd spent only a little over six hours total over the past couple of weeks in it. The rest of the nights she'd spent beside Knives' bed, watching over him. And as great as it felt to be in her own bed, she'd gotten used to always being in Knives' room. She remembered all the nights when he was completely out of it from the bullet wounds, and how she'd watch him sleep. Watched him breathe in and out.

Listened to him mumble words of despair.

Her heart had sunk when she'd heard him speak; how he accused Vash of betraying him. The guy was miserable.

And yet, when he'd woken up, he'd not spoken in misery, but anger and annoyance. As if he had no consideration to what Vash and the other girls had done for him. And sure enough, he didn't. Since then, he'd managed to piss her off every time he opened his mouth to say something. Just the thought of him now made her angry.

Sil had cleaned what little there was to clean in her room to pass the time as well as changed into a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. Rummaging through a trunk that sat in her closet, her hand grazed across an old photograph. She lifted the photo and stared at the image with sadness in her eyes that no one but that photo ever saw. "What do I do now?" She whispered through a constricted throat. Tears trailed her cheeks and silently hit the palm of her hand. She had made it a habit, ever since she was little, to catch the tears that fell from grace.

For her, it was tradition that she could never break.

Twenty minutes had passed before she heard the door to Knives' room open.

"Shit!" Sil hurriedly placed the old photo back into the trunk, pushing it back further into the closet before getting up and running out of her room. She had bolted so fast, she didn't realize that Knives didn't get very far. In fact, he'd barely reached the end of the hall before Sil rammed into the back of Knives. Both stumbled, falling over from the force.

"Woman, get off me." Knives managed to speak with his face planted into the wood paneling. Sil grumbled as a pain hit her head. She'd smacked herself pretty hard when she hit his back. Noticing that the girl didn't seem to hear what he had said, Knives lifted himself, bringing Sil with him, and turned to his side in order for her body to roll off of his. Sil lay on the ground holding her hand up to her head that seemed to throb as if a bulldozer had planted into her skull. Knives turned to look down at the pathetic girl. What the hell was this girl's problem, anyway?

Knives leaned in closer to her face, "What the hell's your problem."

"I was…just checking on you. Ow." Sil moaned as she tried to get up. Knives sighed, annoyed at the girl. She was really getting on his nerves. Reaching down, he grabbed her arms, pulling her up in a sitting position. Both now sat in the hallway; Sil rubbing her head, and Knives watching her with a stern look. He crossed his arms. "I don't need to be looked over like some human." His words were hard and loud, and Sil's head couldn't take all the noise, "Oh God, shut up. You're talking too loud. What, is your back made of? Steel? Concrete? Damn."

Knives disregarded her complaint and got up, not realizing that he'd helped her up to her feet as well. He left her standing in the hall as he reached for something on the ground and headed for the kitchen again. Sil hadn't been paying attention. She was too caught up in the pain that swelled in her head.

"I'm going into town." Knives flatly stated. That caught Sil's attention.

"What? You can't go into town. Are you crazy?" She raised her voice and walked up to Knives, blocking his path.

"You can't go."

Knives leaned in to meet her gaze, "I'm not one to take orders. From anyone." With that, he grabbed her by the waist, throwing Sil off guard, and placed her to the side. Once out of his way, he left the house. Sil stood there, wondering what had just happened. She turned and walked up to the kitchen sink. Inside, she found the plate that Knives had knocked over. Whether he ate the food or threw it away, she didn't know. She looked back at the front door.

'Didn't take orders, huh?'

Sil ran to her room, grabbed a jacket, stumbled her way through the hall, into the living room, and out the door.

"Hey! Wait!"

a/n: alright, I know I didn't get very far, but I promise, the story will speed up a little bit later. Also, the name 'Sil' is pronounced 'Sill' like in 'SIL-houette.' Silhouette. Just in case anyone was wondering. Anyway, hope this chapter gave a bit of insight on the emotions some of the characters are feeling and what some are hiding. Hopefully I can get chapter three up soon.


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